“Just what’s going on?” Wyatt asked, looking around in a panic.

  He could understand the presence of the four Elemental Lords, but the pressure coming through the Invasion gate eclipsed their combined might many times over. The amount of times he’d fought against a Devil Invasion couldn’t be counted on ten hands, so the current escalation of events boggled rationality.

  In the ranks of the Devils, an established Hierarchy existed. The minion fodder, such as the Devils making up the bulk of the army they’d been cutting their way through, ranked in the upper echelons of their minor societies.

  Lucifer of Pride, King of Devils, reigned at the top of the hierarchy without contest. Only the combined might of all the Devil Generals could contend with such an existence. To do so, the Devil Generals would have to look past their own deep personal feelings for one another to actually agree on something for once.

  Hint, they would never. Lucifer united them under a singular cause, doing what none other could through brute force and promising to satisfy all their darkest desires.

  Within the Devilish hierarchy, six different noteworthy classifications existed: The Four Elemental Princes, Four Elemental Lords, in which Samael ranked, Nine Layer’s Princes, Three Devilish Judges, Six Devilish Calamities, and Six Devil Generals.

  The power of which ascending the ladder of devilish hierarchy required was exponential, so seeing Samael and the other three Elemental Lords had made Wyatt content, unworried in his expenditure of Ichor.

  But what approached through the Gate now made Samael look like child’s play.

  Wyatt adapted to the pressure, stimulating his body through a twice-merged active enhancement card. The pain caused by the pressure dissolved from his mind and body. But even then, he couldn’t stave off the pressure fully, resulting in a hazy static that buzzed incessantly.

  He muttered to himself, “This… can’t be possible.”

  “Oh great! I should have known things would come to this. Too little, too late. I suppose this is all I can do. I just wish we had more time to extract the final piece of Archangel Gabriel’s soul,” Cameron complained as he looked around. He smacked his armored gauntlet against his hand and dragged Wyatt away.

  “What did you just say?” Wyatt asked, staring at his friend through blurred and swimming vision. “Who are you talking to? Who is Archangel Gabriel, and what does that have to do with what’s going on right now?” When Cameron didn’t respond, Wyatt snapped his fingers in his friend’s face. “Hey, I’d like some answers before I die. Maybe you want to try clueing me in?”

  Cameron stopped trying to drag Wyatt along and turned on him. He shot a sharp glance over Wyatt’s shoulder and then returned his focus. “Listen to me, Wyatt. I know this Gate might have seemed normal at first, but that’s far from the truth. So, yeah. This situation sucks pretty bad. I really thought I’d have more time to take care of things before Lucifer mobilized the entirety of Hell…”

  “Cameron, stop talking around stuff. You’re not making any sense! Answer my questions,” Wyatt demanded.

  The Paladin looked away guiltily and rubbed the side of his neck. “Well, Wyatt, here’s the thing. There’s something important I have to tell you.”

  Wyatt wanted to scream. The amount of time Cameron wasted already could’ve been time he spent just saying the important thing. “Seriously. If you don’t spit whatever’s going on out in the next ten seconds, your immediate concern will not be whatever is going on. It’ll be whether I strangle you out of frustration first!” Wyatt took a deep breath and slashed out at an approaching Devil before turning his attention back to his friend. “So, before I lose my patience, what are you talking about?”

  Cameron pursed his lips as a massive cloud of blue Miasma poured out from the Gate. The increased pressure required Wyatt to double down on his active enhancements and unload with everything in his card carrier just to remain standing.

  He pointed towards the Gate, glaring at his friend. “That’s Belphegor, Cameron. Belphegor, you know, one of Lucifer’s six Generals. I won’t ask you again. Why is one of Lucifer’s Generals coming through such a weak Gate?”

  “Well, for starters, the Gate isn’t weak.” His friend looked back, and Wyatt followed his gaze. “Wyatt, brother… I wish you could see the world as I do. I’ve lived this life wishing that everyday. There are so many things I wish I would’ve told you sooner, could’ve let you experience for yourself, but without being able to see as I do, you’d never believe me.”

  “You sound like an old man,” Wyatt grumbled.

  Cameron’s form shifted into that of… an old man—one that looked like a hardcore, metalhead Jesus. Light’s End and its Pair, Aegis, merged and shifted in Cameron’s hands and elongated into a pure white sword as long as Cameron was tall. Despite how long it appeared, Jesus-Cameron wielded the blade in one hand.

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  The sword hummed and buzzed as if irate. The blessed steel armor turned translucent and sank into Cameron’s chest, disappearing entirely. His golden motif also wildly changed to a more black-and-silver befitting a depressed teen rather than someone who looked like an ancient grandpa.

  “Why are you shirtless?” Wyatt asked, rolling his eyes. He pointed towards the sword. “Also, what’s up with that?”

  “It seeks to purify its original owner. A righteous fury stemming from the absolute betrayal of something once so pure and glorious…” Cameron idly ran his hand along the edge of the blade, his lips drawn into a thin line.

  When he looked at the sword, he seemed to get lost in thought for a good moment. His eyes glazed over, almost as if he’d left reality to return to a time far in the past.

  The moment came to an end, and Cameron looked at Wyatt. “Listen to me carefully. You are a very important person, far more than you realize. I know you won’t understand until things are said and done here, but you’ve been dragged into something you didn’t even know you were a part of since before even being born.”

  Wyatt stared at Cameron. Intuitively, he understood what Metal Jesus-Cameron said. The words resonated inside him to a depth of his being Wyatt didn’t even know existed before. And that part of him called back, stating everything he heard was absolute truth.

  His rational mind, however, heavily disagreed. Cognitive dissonance assaulted Wyatt and left him speechless. An understanding of something he didn’t know and the lack of understanding of what he saw and heard paralyzed him in place

  “Uh-huh…”

  As Cameron said, Wyatt didn’t understand a thing. Rather than try to force an understanding of things he didn’t know, he put the thought of existential crises into a dark, bottomless box at the back of his mind and locked it.

  He made sure to lose the key.

  When Wyatt turned to follow Cameron’s gaze, he saw Commander Marlon. The leader of Demiurge focused on them, his eyes a violent red. A wry smile tugged the corners of his lips into something wicked—like he’d heard a really good joke.

  “Huh, that’s not normal.”

  Wyatt turned back to see Cameron’s eyes affixed to the Gate. A hand the size of a grown man’s body reached through the dimensional hole and clawed at the sides. Whatever the Gates were made of, Belphegor surely didn’t like it. His hands constantly slipped and tore massive gouges out of the earth, turning any Devils in the way into Miasma puddles instantly.

  “I suppose nothing about this has been normal,” Wyatt said, sighing. He turned to Cameron. “Okay, so…?”

  “Look, you need to take Illiawyrin and get out of here,” Cameron said as his entire deck flew into the air around them.

  Wyatt had never witnessed such a massive instance of cards merging together. Theoretically, the most a single card combination could contain should’ve only been thirty-two cards.

  But there above his head, that theory shattered.

  Every card, including the spent Challenging Arena, Light’s End, and Aegis shifted upward into the air. Illiawyrin’s combination had nothing on what he witnessed now, and the Devils seemed to agree as all of the lesser Devils vaporized.

  Cameron looked towards Wyatt and gave a bittersweet smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. We’re brothers, and I’ve enjoyed this time with you more than I ever thought I would.”

  “Hey, you’re acting like this is goodbye,” Wyatt asked, wide-eyed. “You’re not going anywhere. We’ll find a way out of this like we always do.”

  “Not today, Wyatt. Today is my last. This is goodbye, my friend.” Cameron nodded as his eyes hardened, his resolve unyielding. He huffed out a deep breath and continued, “You see, I’ve taken the task of being the final bearer of Archangel Gabriel’s fractured soul. This is my own form of repentance for the awful things I’ve done in my life. When I first took this responsibility, I always knew this time would come. I have many regrets, but I’m glad we spent our time together. My biggest regrets, brother, are not telling you sooner or being strong enough to bear this burden so you wouldn’t have to.”

  Wyatt growled, “You’re not going anywhere until you answer my questions. After you do that, you can keep on talking about self-sacrifice, cryptic history, and whatever the other nonsense you’re spewing means.”

  Cameron gestured towards the surroundings. “Look around, Wyatt. The Devil King is among us, and you can’t even see that. You don’t know, and I wish you did.” His bittersweet look fell into something sad and pained. “I know you searched high and low, taking every mission you could get your hands on as an excuse to go looking for her. For so long, you looked for Annabeth. When you didn’t find her, I didn’t have the heart or willpower to tell you. Then, you looked for what happened to her. She… stumbled upon information she was better off not knowing, Wyatt. Lucifer killed her. She kept you distracted, but were she to tell you what she found…”

  “Annabeth is… dead?” Wyatt asked, his heart dropping into his stomach. “No. She can’t be.”

  The memories of his time with the fiery-headed girl felt as fresh as the day he’d experienced them. With a personality as equally frustrating as it was exciting, she brought a liveliness to his otherwise boring day-to-day delving. She was never keen on moderation, only ever operating at full-speed and on max intensity at all times.

  She’d rubbed off on him, even after disappearing for so long. Because of her, he’d taken control of his life and lived to the fullest. Like a beacon from a lighthouse in the midst of a dangerous storm, she’d guided him on a path of adventure and helped him navigate the chaos and struggles.

  “I thought she’d just left. She’s really… dead?”

  “We’ve been betrayed,” Cameron said as he gestured towards Commander Marlon. “Even before becoming Lucifer’s vessel, your commander sabotaged everything. Why do you think he sent you on so many missions? He needed you away. And Annabeth—well, she told him what she found, and he strangled the life from her in his office. You’ve stood in the very spot she died countless times and didn’t even know.”

  “No…” As much as he wanted to refute, Wyatt couldn’t. Everything made a sick amount of sense. The realization he’d trusted the commander, argued with Annabeth countless times about his loyalties, and didn’t listen or notice what stared him in the face…

  Well, that pissed him off.